The Road Home
by alaricnomad
Summary: LucasPeyton. Set ten years in the future pointless feelgood fluff. ONESHOT.


**The Road Home**

By Alaricnomad

Driving through the night had never been one of his better virtues. As each stretch of highway rushed past him in a perpetual blur of painted lines and black-tar asphalt, the hypnotic lure of the same, monotonous rhythm had Lucas Scott constantly tempted to pull over and find a motel room for the night, lest he finally give in to the drowsy pull of his eyelids.

Still, there was an even stronger force egging him on to keep on driving, push past his exhausting and continue his journey down the lonely stretches of road. Each green sign denoting distances and miles to his intended destination brought about jumbled mixtures of anticipation and joy, anxiousness and wistful longing.

He stopped ten minutes for a coffee, ignored the bitter taste of the mediocre brew, thick and black, as he passed his lips, and decided not to comment on the perplexed stare of the gas station attendant as he marched in like a man on a mission, demanding a single cup of joe to go.

As he passed the sign welcoming back to the town of his birth and upbringing, he could not help but smile.

It was only a little after midnight when he made it back, and things were silent and dark, but considering the inhabitants of the quaint little house, he couldn't be surprised. He made his way through the quiet stillness, embraced by the serene shadows cast over the home he had worked so hard to earn, and still struggled to keep. Alas, therein lay the reason for the extended business trip that took him away from hearth and home, much like this one.

She was sleeping so peacefully as he slipped into their shared bedroom after checking on the slumbering children down the hall, creating such a serene and perfect picture of an earthen angel he found himself reluctant to wake her. But a bundle of emotions tightened in his chest, a warmth and a want spreading through him as rapidly as wildfire, but soothing and familiar as the silken embrace he longed for.

His clothes hit the floor with scarcely a whisper of fabric, the sheets cool and smooth against his naked skin as he slid into their bed, encasing her in his arms. She came alive in his embrace, turning in his arms to greet him with a sleepy smile and the sweetest of kisses. And he found himself grateful for the caffeine pick-me-up he'd acquired an hour before, providing much needed stamina in his girl's enthusiasm to finally having him home.

Not that Lucas minded in the least.

He made love to her once, twice, a third time, feeling her so soft and warm wrapped around him, hearing her gasp his name into his ear. Hearing her whisper to him those three precious words that always left his heart soaring, he felt the glorious satisfaction of finally coming home.

Lying together in the aftermath, bordering on the brink of sleep and consciousness, he held her close, smiling lazily as her curly-haired head rested against his chest, absently tracing a finger down the arm resting around her waist.

The peaceful state he found himself lulled in to was broken not long after by sudden, shrill- a three children later, utterly familiar- cry breaking through the air. Lucas groaned, burying his face in a pillow as Peyton amusedly reminded him of his turn after his two-week absence.

He lifted the pillow from his face, opening one eye to look at her speculatively. Peyton had to wonder how a twenty-eight year old man could pout- though the grumpy expression still looked adorable even on his mature face.

He quirked an eyebrow as he let his eyes unabashedly roam over her naked state and he grinned rather wolfishly. "You realize it's exactly this that keeps getting us into this mess, right?"

"I didn't hear you complaining," she replied airily, a mischievous light in her hazel-green gaze as she grazed a hand down his abdomen, watching his eyes darken with interest as he reached out to her. He gripped her hips, pulling her to him as he rolled them both over, pinning her beneath him.

She pressed a kiss to his jaw, the corner of his mouth, her head falling back and fingers digging into the thick hair at his nape as his lips found her neck, descending down her collarbone and shoulder. "Besides," she continued on, a touch breathless from his ministrations, "I thought it was those Scott genes that got us in this situation."

He huffed out a light humored sound, smoothing his cheek against her stomach, the stubble of his beard rough against her skin. "You might be right."

She leaned close, close enough for her lips to graze against his with every words as she whispered to him, "That still doesn't get you out of tending to your son. Now move or the couch is yours."

Lucas momentarily blinked and then drew back, shooting his wife a sour look as he slipped into his boxers and headed for the door. "Harsh, Peyt."

She propped herself up on one elbow, smiling at him coquettishly as the sheets slipped down to her waist, revealing to him the body he'd worshipped, caressed and tasted only minutes before. "Harsh maybe, but I can make it worth your while."

Like any man with a wife as gorgeous as his, Lucas was quick to obey. So, the eldest Scott brother would be the first to admit, albeit a bit reluctantly, just how whipped he was. But in the end, with Peyton Sawyer-Scott as his wife and three beautiful children down the hall, could you blame him?

Lord, but it was good to be home.


End file.
